


Finding Release

by missjay1988



Series: Building A Relationship [1]
Category: British Actor RPF, Sherlock (TV) RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Light Dom/sub, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-16
Updated: 2013-08-16
Packaged: 2017-12-23 15:54:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/928357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missjay1988/pseuds/missjay1988
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Benedict has a plan. All you have to do is follow orders.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finding Release

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Benedict's comments on "Top Gear" about preferring to be the dominant one.

He’s on you before you make it through the door. You let out a yelp as his arms become steel bands around your waist and the grocery bags drop to the foyer floor. “Ben, what…”

“I need you. Now.” His voice comes out as a growl against your neck, his teeth scraping against the tender skin behind your right ear.

A whimper escapes, embarrassingly high. You’re already panting lightly, hands clenching at his left arm. “The kids, where are the kids?”

He starts to move toward the bedroom, but your legs are jello, and you can’t seem to make them work. You feel more than hear his rumble as his impatience takes over and he swings you up in his arms, moving swiftly through the house. “Martin has them.” He kicks the doors to the master bedroom open, sending a wave of heat through your body, settling low in your belly. “They’re completely taken care of.” The giggle you let out as he tosses you on the bed dries up once you catch sight of him, everything about him screaming possession and seduction as he stalks towards you. “Therefore, I demand your complete attention.”

Benedict crawls on the bed, coming to rest on his hands and knees, looming over you. He stares at you, his chameleon eyes roaming over your body. Suddenly impatient, you reach up for him, only to gasp when you grabs your hands, pushing your wrists into the bed above your head. You struggle for a minute, not seriously, just enough to see his eyes darken and his lips twist into a smirk. He presses harder against the delicate bones in your wrists. Your back arches, hoping for friction against his body, but he pulls away sharply, chuckling darkly. “Oh no, love. That’s not how this is going to work. You’re going to do exactly as I demand. If you don’t, there will be…repercussions. If you do, there will be wonderful rewards.”

Despite his words and commanding tone, he waits for your nod before moving.

He takes your mouth in a bruising kiss, demanding submission. With one last squeeze to your wrists, his hands skim down your arms to your waist. He grabs the bottom edge of your t-shirt (the “mentally dating Benedict Cumberbatch” t-shirt you threw on this morning while grinning at your husband’s exasperated sigh), pushing it roughly up and over your head. His head drops to your neck, lips sucking bruises into the highly sensitive skin. Forgetting yourself, your hands move to his hair, fingers catching on the mess of curls. He bites down hard on the muscle between his teeth. Pulling away, he growls your name in warning, and you force yourself to move your hands back into position. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead in reward, causing you to sigh happily, before resuming sucking kisses down your body.

When he reaches your breasts, he stops long enough to pull off your bra, flinging it across the room. He buries his face in the space between, bringing his large hands up to cup them fully. Turning his head to the right, he pulls the nipple into his mouth, sucking strongly. You can feel each pull at your center and you bite your bottom lip to stifle a cry. Lifting his head long enough to switch to the other breast, your next sound of pleasure is louder despite your efforts. With one last flick of his tongue against the tip, he releases you.

He face is flush with arousal and effort, his eyes dark with promise. “Don’t. I want to hear you. Every gasp, every whimper, every moan.”

“Yes, Sir.” Your voice is already cracked, barely a whisper, but he seems satisfied and resumes his task.

When Benedict reaches your belly button, he dips his tongue in briefly, knowing it will make you laugh. Throwing you a wink, he reaches for the button of your blue jeans, running his tongue along the edge of the fabric. He grasps the zipper between his teeth, pulling slowly, and the sound echoes through the room. Sliding down your body, he pulls off your sandals, tossing them over his shoulder, before tugging roughly on the jeans. He drops them on the floor and leans forwards to press his mouth between your legs through your panties. After a few seconds, he pulls away, dragging the last scrap of fabric off your body, snickering at your deep groan of disappointment.

He moves to stand at the end of the end, slowly slipping the buttons of his shirt loose, keeping his eyes locked on your own as it slips off his powerful shoulders to the floor. He grins as his hands drop to the buttons of his own jeans, undoing them with purpose. With a shake of his hips, the material falls to the floor. He relishes your strangled moan as you realize there is nothing underneath but acres of skin.

Slipping back onto the bed, he nips at the back of your left knee. Your hips jerk off the bed without your permission, and he wraps his long fingers around your hip bones. “Stay still. Don’t move unless I tell you. You move, I stop. Am I clear?” When all you can manage is a whimper, he moves up your body, sliding his fingers into your hair. They tighten around the strands, just shy of too much, tilting your head back. “ _Am I clear?_ ”

You swallow hard, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. “Yes, Sir.”

He releases your hair, smoothing it down and out of your face. “That’s my girl.” His thumbs catch your tears, and he presses a dirty kiss to your mouth before moving back to settle himself between your thighs, his left hand holding you open to his gaze. He lets out a moan as he inhales your scent. “Beautiful.” Two fingers of his right hand slide through your curls, parting your folds to easily slip inside your heat. His mouth lowers to your clit, and he wastes no time, sucking strongly, curling his tongue.

Between his clever tongue, knowing fingers, and the heavy heat of his hand gripping your thigh, you can feel your climax building quickly. Your fingers clasp around each other and air, wanting desperately to wrap around the headboard, but you have no desire to test him. Every muscle is clenched tight, holding yourself as still as possible. The noises you’re making are frantic and loud, and he responds with his own, the vibrations moving through your body like electricity.

After what feels like hours, he lifts his head long enough to breath a command against your skin. “ _Move._ ”

It hits you like a speeding train. Before he finishes the word, your body snaps tight, back arching off the bed. You scream his name.

“Again.” He sounds greedy, pushing you towards another orgasm relentlessly. His fingers never stop moving, curling inside you. “Come for me again.”

Your thighs lock around his head, your fingers curl tightly in his hair, pulling sharply as you fall over the edge again. “Oh, god. Please, please, please. Ben…” This time, he slows, gentles, easing you down. His fingers slip free and you groan, not wanting to lose him. Pushing himself up on his left hand, he sucks on the fingers of his right, cleaning them thoroughly. He moans softly at the taste, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

He slithers up your body, dropping random kisses. Once he reaches your mouth, he takes it in another rough kiss, tongue forceful, sharing your taste. He’s heavy and hard against the inside of your thigh.

He wraps his arm around your waist and quickly flips over so that you land on top of him. The move causes you to yelp in surprise and he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose in response. Even with your weight pressing him in the mattress, he’s strong enough to move until he’s propped up against the headboard, arm still around your waist. He pulls you against his chest and you settle in his lap, straddling his strong thighs.

His hands grip your hips hard as he easily picks you up. You reach down to hold yourself open, both of you groaning deeply as he pushes inside you. His grip pulls you down hard and steady. Once you’re sitting flush against him, you force yourself still, uncertain if you’re still allowed to move freely. His eyes sparkle with approval. “Good girl. You can move all you want.” His voice is dark and rough. Commanding. “Ride me.”

As soon as you have permission, your hips start moving. Your hands land on the solid wall of his chest, and one of his slide around to grip your ass while the other keeps a solid hold of your left hip. You push up, thighs burning, and drop down, twisting, unable to keep still. He never lets you slide off completely, using his grip to force you back when he feels you’re too far away. The possessiveness of the gesture pushes you closer to edge and you clench around him. His hips jerk up, throwing you forward a bit, and the new angle forces a out a sharp cry. The pressure is building steadily, starting at the small of your back, spreading until you can feel the tingle from your head to your toes.

“Let go, baby. I wanna see you fall apart for me.” Your climax somehow manages to take you by surprise. It’s all-consuming, and you throw your head back, whimpering, your hips still moving in circles, unable to stop. His heart is racing under your hand and he palms your ass as he comes seconds after you, groaning long and low.

You collapse forward, trusting him to catch you. He holds you tight, whispering endearments and love in your ear. You press a sloppy kiss over his heart, too exhausted to do much else.

“I love you.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “I love you, too, baby girl.”

You hum in response, snuggling in as close as you can. You know that when you wake up, your throat will be raw, there will be love bites all over your body, and there will be bruises in the shape of his hands on your ass, thigh and hips.

Perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at writing anything sex-related, so please let me know how I did!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
